Here’s a not so pretty poem I wrote about chronic illness in July of this year. I was really struggling, y’all. Having persistent Lyme disease, I don’t always know what each day will bring. It’s the nature of this beast. Thankfully, the past few months have been significantly better than the day I wrote this. This last summer, I was hanging by a thread of hope.
Waves of hope ebb and flow as thoughts of death come and go Held hostage to weakness Pushing to merely exist Fatigue the enemy Sucking life from this body Beaten-slammed to the ground No energy to rebound A system waging war No fight left here anymore Pain shoved so far deep down No longer can I be found This illness has battered My life long gone and shattered Broken pieces of me Shards of who I used to be Nothing left but a shell from days lived in brutal hell Black as dark as the night Alone, in bed, out of sight Too frail to stop these thoughts Into the abyss I drop Undertows drowning me A hope-filled heart now empty Illuminate me, Lord Fill me with Truth from your Sword
Copyright © 2020 Aimee Phillippi